


Take Care

by Dragonpie



Series: Mandorin Fics [1]
Category: The Mandalorian (LadyIrina AU), The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Awkward Boners, Blow Jobs, Coming In Pants, Frottage, Grinding, Hand Jobs, I am so sorry, Idiots in Love, M/M, Miscommunication, Multiple Positions, Non-Graphic Smut, Self-Esteem Issues, UST, awkward attempts at flirting, but it happens, casual touching, decided to write my own corin affair, if you can call it that, kind of, more like please realise i like you without me having to say it out loud., non-graphic, part of a series, resolved tension, there will be more tags added, theres not enough of this ship around, vaguing, yes we're moving on to the real stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 08:22:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22332940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonpie/pseuds/Dragonpie
Summary: While Corin may not be much help in a direct fire-fight, he can at least deal with the aftermath.*****After taking fire from an unknown ship, Corin resolves tension the only way he knows how - physically. And while it might not be the best idea he's ever had, it certainly works out.
Relationships: Corin the Stormtrooper (Rescue and Regret)/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), The Mandalorian/Corin
Series: Mandorin Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1625140
Comments: 39
Kudos: 366





	1. Let me Take Care of You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyIrina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIrina/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Rescue and Regret](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21648874) by [LadyIrina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIrina/pseuds/LadyIrina). 



> Hey yall just want to say i am so sorry i became addicted to this ship and just created a monster.  
> To Ladyirina if this gets back to you i am eternally grateful for your amazing character and eternally ashamed for how i have abused his delicate cinnamon roll sensibilities. forgive me Orz
> 
> ALSO! I am not at all caught up on the latest chapters so if something doesn't add up that will be why.

“Goodnight little one.”

Corin hesitated briefly before laying a soft kiss on the child’s head. He earned a sleepy coo for his efforts, and stayed long enough to watch the child burrow deeper into it’s pile of blankets. It was precious good luck that had landed him here and Corin was determined to soak it up before it disappeared.

With a few buttons the hidden compartment whooshed closed and the child was concealed. Safe, but not secure. He had a way of wiggling out of hiding when he was tired of being alone. More often than not Corin would give in and crawl into the compartment alongside him, lulling the child to sleep with tales of his troubled youth or daring adventures from his past.

The child would chirp and coo and eventually sleep heavy on Corin’s chest. A firm weight of trust and affection – more than Corin deserved, surely.

He shook the thought away as easy as shaking off a light breeze. He didn’t have time for himself; the child wasn’t the only one who needed rest.

They’d been drifting through space for three days, near as Corin could tell. In that time the Mandalorian had barely left the cockpit to rest and it was starting to take it’s toll.

Corin climbed the ladder with every intention of ushering the other to bed – or to keep him company until the child woke. He could do that much at least. But Corin only made it halfway before a shockwave sent the RazorCrest into tremors.

Heart racing in his chest Corin took the rungs three at a time, bounding into the cockpit in a near panic.

“What was that?”

The entire area was bathed in red; several emergency lights flashing on and off.

“We’ve been hit,” The Mandalorian wasted barely a second gesturing back to where Corin stood, holding on for dear life. “Sit down. This could get bad.”

Corin scrambled to obey, holding tight to the seat as another blast barely missed them.

An attempted transmission was silenced – no doubt some righteous bounty hunter who thought they’d just hit their lucky break. Corin almost snorted at thought. He might’ve been an easy capture on his own, but he couldn’t feel safer than he did knowing the Mandalorian would stop at nothing to avoid handing over the child.

At least this seemed to be a standalone ship. Good luck had really thrown them a bone there. An imperial fleet would have been tough to evade – they might not have survived an unexpected attack. But this was fine. This they could fight.

“Hold on,” the Mandalorian said, flipping a few innocuous switches. He barely looked over his shoulder to make sure Corin was listening, before the RazorCrest came to a complete halt.

Corin, having not been prepared in the slightest, was thrown from his chair completely. He landed in a heap but looked up quick enough to see the other ship fly past, only to be shoot down in it’s tracks. It was a small ship. A single perfect blast destroyed it.

They waited in tense silence as it seemed they were once again alone in this part of the galaxy.

They waited, half expecting another ship to appearing and start giving chase.

Nothing happened for the longest time and Corin nearly jumped out of his skin when the Mandalorian spoke.

“You okay?”

Corin scrambled to his feet.

“Yes! Of course, yes, sorry.”

He dusted himself off, doing his best to act as though he’d never fallen in the first place.

Once steady on his feet, Corin remembered his original purpose for coming up here – though he thought this time it was a good thing he hadn’t succeeded in getting the Mandalorian to rest. He strained his ears in the still quiet, but heard no movement from below. The child seemed to have slept through all the excitement.

“And you?” he asked, aware of how loud his voice was in the dead quiet. The Mandalorian looked back at him, waiting for clarification. “Are you _okay_? I know this kind of thing happens pretty often but still – it can’t be easy.”

The Mandalorian shrugged and turned his attention back to the front of the ship.

“This is what must be done,” he said. His tone left no room for argument.

Corin wasn’t having it; not again. He may be no use in a fire-fight but Corin felt it was his job to help in the aftermath.

He marched forward – losing confidence with every step – until his hands could rest firmly on broad shoulders. He leaned in, pressing himself against the back of the chair where he could feel the other’s warmth permeating through.

“You’re shaking,” he said softly, reaching out to grab the Mandalorians wrist as he was reaching for another switch. “You need to rest.”

“There could be others,” was the immediate response.

“There could be,” Corin agreed, “there _will_ be. And how will you fight them off running on an hour’s sleep?”

For a moment it seemed like the Mandalorian would argue – possibly mention how he had managed before Corin was there to ‘help’ and point out how little Corin really did anyway. But he didn’t. he didn’t say anything at all.

The Mandalorian turned in his chair, causing Corin to take a wary half step back. He felt gloved hands circle his wrists, pulling him forward just enough for the Mandalorian to rest his head against Corin’s stomach.

“You’re right,” he said, not sounding tired but resigned to needing a break.

Corin stood stock still, not sure how else to react. He felt the Mandalorian’s shoulders slump; heavy breaths shaking his body. Those strong hands held such a fragile grasp on Corin.

 _He’s exhausted,_ Corin thought.

Immediately he felt guilt settle into his stomach. He should have tried harder to get the Mandalorian to rest. He should have been more insistent – he should have been more trustworthy. Maybe then there wouldn’t be an issue.

He had to make it right somehow. He had to be better.

Corin climbed onto the chair, spreading his legs to place his knees on either side of the other’s hips. The hands on his arms shifted to accommodate this new position; settling with a loose grasp around his waist.

Tentatively Corin leaned forward. He rested his head against the helmet. His hands came up to rest gently on either side, and Corin let his eyes close – let his breathing even out to match the calming pace of his heart.

It seemed to work for a short while. It was different; they had never been quite so close before despite a few near misses and awkward drunken encounters easily forgotten the next day. Corin quite liked the warmth – the familiarity of being tangled up together. He could tell the sentiment was shared.

“We’re safe now,” he whispered, hoping it would help.

The response he got was a gentle hum that reverberated through the Mandalorian’s strong chest, bringing a smile to Corin’s face.

He thought of saying other things – mindless reassurances like he would often whisper to the child on stormy planets or when things weren’t going quite right. In the end Corin decided against it and simply let the moment be what it was. Even felt himself drifting off. He felt the odd shift or shuffle from the body beneath him, trying to adjust to the added weight, trying to get comfortable in an inherently uncomfortable situation. Nothing out of the ordinary until the Mandalorian completely tensed.

The sudden change set Corin on edge. Some parts of him were still waiting for the stroke of bad luck that would have him locked away in the cargo hold until they could drop him off on some backwater planet.

He’d been promised it wouldn’t happen. Time and time again. Still Corin found it too hard to believe the Mandalorian wouldn’t soon realise what a nuisance he was and just let him go.

Corin shifted his weight – intending to pull away and separate before he could make things worse. He almost fell backwards in his hurry, only caught by the Mandalorian’s quick reflexes placing a firm hand on the small of his back and pushing him forward.

That was when Corin felt it. The reason for the sudden change.

His breath hitched feeling the weight of a growing erection against his stomach

Corin drew back, making eye contact with the visor. He only saw his own shock reflected back at him.

It made sense. Things had to be difficult with the child around. No alone time. No time to… relieve stress.

“Corin…”

The tone was neutral. Almost a mere breath of air.

Corin decided he could do this. He _should_ do this. He wanted to of course – he had wanted this for a long time – but this felt like permission.

An excuse.

A reason to do what he wanted with no guilt.

He let his hands fall, drifting down the front of the Armor. His fingers itched to remove and touch and explore what lay beneath but he didn’t.

Corin wasn’t sure which one of them let out a gasp when his hand made contact with the clothed length. His own breath hitched as his hand closed around it, stroking over the pants.

“ _Corin…”_

A stab of excitement pierced through him at the sound of his name groaned out. Corin held himself still except his hand – refusing to let his own building arousal rear it’s ugly head.

This wasn’t about him.

Corin buried his head in the Mandalorian’s shoulder, where the cloak was loosened and skin exposed – breathing hot air against the barest hint of neck.

“Let me take care of you,” he whispered.

Corin was quick to undo the ties on the Mandalorian’s pants. His fingers fumbled over each other, blunt nails catching the skin in his eagerness. He wedged his hand inside as soon as it would fi, wrapping his bare fingers around the exposed length of flesh. The Mandalorian’s cock was hot in his hand, the tip slick with precum already.

Corin swiped his thumb over the head, collecting liquid heat that had his mouth watering in pointless anticipation. He lost himself in breathless gasps – his name stuttered out in an almost moan – the flutter of muscles beneath him – hips rising to thrust into his hand. His strokes grew frantic, leaving no room to savour the moment.

It was getting harder to ignore the burning in his stomach – the need to satisfy his own hunger. Corin swallowed away the need to thrust into his own hand or grind his cock against beskar. He breathed his desire out into the crook of neck and exposed shoulder – covered in sweat and red with effort.

_“Corin –“_

Spoken as though his name were the only word in the other’s vocabulary. His voice stuttered and stopped, reduced to a low guttural sound as he let go, painting Corin’s hand in white hot ecstasy.

Corin tightened his grip, drawing every last drop and drawing out the pleasure. His own length ached – arousal only spurred on by the feeling of cum slicking his skin.

The Mandalorian continued to buck his hips, thrusting involuntarily into the now too-tight grip. Not long after he’d finished, he gripped Corin’s forearm tight, forcing him to stop.

Corin sat back. He withdrew his hand slowly – the smell of sex and sweat was so thick he could barely breathe through it.

His hand was filthy. Light bounced off the pearlescent liquid clinging to his skin. Curiosity – or maybe a unexplored _hunger_ – got the better of him. Staring directly at the visor Corin leaned in, sticking his tongue out to swipe over his dirty finger. The taste flooded his mouth, coating his tongue with thick bitterness. He closed his eyes for the barest moment, a quiet moment vibrating through his throat.

The Mandalorian’s grip shifted – hands tightening around Corin’s hips in a way that sent panic straight to his heart.

He wanted to object. To run away. This wasn’t some sort of exchange – he didn’t want the favour returned –

A crash from the cargo area stole their attention.

_Good luck! It had to be good luck!_

Corin scrambled to his feet – almost stumbled on sleeping legs.

“I’ll go and check on him.”

He fled the cockpit, leaving the moment in the past.


	2. Let Me Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corin know's a lot about snow - including the best ways to keep warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey ya'll I am back on my bullshit. this took a lot of editing, i wasn't going to post this today i was going to wait for tomorrow night because i have work in the morning and boy am i going to be tired but i did it. i did this for all of you.
> 
> I didn't want to respond to any comments and artifically boost my comment stat but i read loved and appreciated every comment i received thank you guys so much for the support i saw how much you guys liked this story and decided to update a full day early wow *o-o*
> 
> this entire story was supposed to be 2500 words so obviously im pissed but _/-\\_
> 
> also i edited this quickly sao i could get it out please forgive any trash i will be sure to fix it.

They spent another three days in space.

The RazorCrest was slow to recover – repairs were slow with Corin’s limited knowledge and their complete lack of parts. Not to mention limited access to the damaged areas.

The entire ordeal nearly doubled their travel time. But as bad luck went, things could have easily been worse. The Mandalorian listened to him more after their – incident. He got more rest and even _tried_ to relax – at least when the child was awake.

Meanwhile Corin tried to keep his head down. He tried to move past what had happened. Swallow down the remnant of emotions and – other things.

It wasn’t easy to start with – not with so little space on the ship and literally no places to hide and even fewer places to hide from himself. A vicious hunger was building up in his stomach – though present before, it had grown worse since that first encounter.

And the situation wasn’t helped in the slightest by the shift in their relationship. Perhaps out of obligation – or even sweeter; out of familiarity – the Mandalorian had gone out of his way to touch.

At first it was small. A lingering touch when handing the child over for bed or to keep him from trying to fly the ship. Corin barely noticed it until it became soft touches to the top of his head – fleeting and uncertain – while he was busy playing games with the child or trying to teach him to play cards. Shy touches then evolved into fingers through his hair that sent chills through his spine. He couldn’t avoid it. Even when he was alone Corin could still feel soft touches again his skin. He was so hungry for it – by the time they landed he thought he might burst into flames.

He watched their descent towards a snowy ground. This planet, it seemed, was submerged in a permanent winter. Corin’s stomach fluttered at the sight of it. His mind raced in anticipation. What a lovely excuse to stay warm.

The child seemed to realise they were landing. Cooped up in the ship for almost a week, he was no doubt excited for fresh air and a chance to stretch his tiny legs. He began to fuss as soon as the ship came to a stop.

Corin scooped him up, making sure his tiny robes were adjusted for maximum warmth before descending into the cargo hold. The Mandalorian was quick to follow, but kept his distance while Corin wrapped an extra blanket around the child. Corin knew from experience he was the only one who could handle the cold. He whispered sweet nonsense to the child, beaming at every gurgle or bright coo he received while the cargo bay door began to open behind them.

When he was done, Corin he patted down the crinkles in the child’s ensemble. The chill from outside had already sunk in and he couldn’t be happier.

“You ready?” he asked. The child blinked his depthless eyes in response, reaching out to be held.

“I’ve got him,” the Mandalorian interjected. “You head outside. Make sure it’s safe.”

Corin frowned, knowing he wouldn’t be sent outside at all if there was a chance it wasn’t safe. Still he didn’t hesitate to head out into the cold; embracing the crunch of snow beneath his feet. It sent a thrill through his heart – a feeling he couldn’t quite explain. He took a step. Then several more. His feet sank down into the cold and he could only smile. He wanted to run but was almost afraid to get lost.

A happy shriek called him back.

Corin only realised how far he’d gotten from the ship when he turned around and saw the Mandalorian in the near distance standing just off the snow. The child was flapping his arms wildly in an attempt to escape, appearing smaller at a distance.

He couldn’t help the smile that took over his face

“We won’t be here long,” the Mandalorian said stiffly. He remained where he was for a little while longer – savouring the precious few moments he had left in the ship. “We’re just here to lie low.”

Corin smiled wider. Nodded. Turned around and continued his trek forward. It was only a few steps later he heard the Mandalorian follow.

* * *

It was near nightfall by the time they’d found an inn to stay the night. The Mandalorian made mention of finding work the next day while Corin and the child scarfed down their first fresh meal in days.

The room had two beds, and a crib shoved between them. The child was drifting off by the time they stepped inside. He’d been sleeping on and off throughout their journey – the cold wore him out more than usual. Corin tucked him in, and padded the crib with an extra patchwork quilt. The innkeeper had taken instantly to the child and had almost refused to give him back – playfully at first, but Corin had watched her warily after getting the child back in his arms.

It had been a long day. Corin had been having the time of his life – back in his element and out of the sun. Even the child had enjoyed himself; eating a few handfuls of snow and several suspicious creatures he’d picked off of trees.

The Mandalorian had been quiet most of the day, though Corin could tell he was struggling. The cold clung to his armor – seemed to almost weight him down. The moisture from the snow had melted and soaked into his clothes, sticking tight to his skin.

When Corin turned to face the room he saw the Mandalorian struggling to undress with numb, gloved fingers.

Without a word Corin crossed the room to help. This at least, had to be safe. This was familiar – the act of undressing. He’d done it before – plenty of times. Helped the child dress up or down depending on the planet.

This was no different, he lied.

The Mandalorian watched him curiously, visor focussed in on wandering hands.

“Corin,” he said carefully. He remained still when Corin began to help with the frozen armor.

His blank stare was returned with a cheeky grin.

“Defeated by a little snow?” Corin asked softly, “I’ve seen you take out literal armies.”

Silence. Then –

“Can’t shoot snow.”

Corin snorted.

“Wouldn’t be very effective, no.”

He thought he heard a laugh in return.

Corin made quick work of the beskar, removing the chestplate and pauldrons one by one. He wasn’t being pushed away. He hadn’t gone too far. By some terrible good luck Corin hadn’t ruined everything. Not yet.

As he continued a gloved hand came up – hesitantly – to grasp the side of Corin’s face. Corin who was now kneeling on the hardwood floor, working the ties of heavy boots.

“You’re soaked through,” he said, swiping a strand of still wet hair out of Corin’s face..

 _You’ll have to keep me warm then,_ Corin thought. He could feel warmth rising to cover his cheeks as the thought filled his mind, and he forced himself to look away.

“I’m more worried about you. Can’t exactly find work if you’re running a fever,” he teased. “Let me help.”

Now the proper thing would have been to get some rest. Finish undressing and bundle up warm for the night to combat the days trials. Corin had had enough experience with ice and snow to know all this.

It was common sense – even the child knew! But when Corin’s hands reached the fastenings of snow-clad pants – a step too far if not several – common sense flew out the window and was replaced by every sordid thought he’d ever felt guilty for having.

It was bad luck to feel this way in the first place. Terrible luck. Corin could almost _hear_ the expression of shock on the Mandalorian’s hidden face as he continued undoing his pants despite his entire mind screaming.

“Corin –“

His name bitten out – uncertain – around a sharp intake of air.

“You don’t have to…”

_I want to._

The words went unsaid. Didn’t need to be said. The wanton expression on his face – eyes wide; almost glazed over, lips wet and slightly parted – said everything.

Coirin had had his suspicions during their previous encounter – could tell by touch alone that the Mandalorian was by no means small. Still that hadn’t prepped him for the size of it. Even half hard Corin knew he had a daunting – if not absolutely thrilling – task ahead of him. His hand shook ever so slighty before closing around the hot length. He let out a breath of air that burned his lungs being held too long, and heard the Mandalorian do the same above him.

His insides were burning. His stomach – somewhere deeper. There was absolutely no way it would fit – not that there wasn’t a part of him _begging_ for a chance to try.

Corin closed his eyes at the thought. Hopelessly turned on by just touching – just the weight of it in his hands and the thick glide of precum on his fingertips. When he looked up, leaning in with his hand tight around the base, his eyes searched the visor for permission. A silent plea to not push him away. If he had to stop now Corin might truly lose his mind. He stuck his tongue out intending to wet his plump lips but an impatient jerk had him swiping along the tip.

The taste flooded his mouth – just like that time in the cockpit, or during the aftermath, licking his hand clean and savouring every last drop. Corin let out a shy whine, feeling his eyes wetting with embarrassment.

“Kriff don’t make me stop now,” he pleaded, as quiet as he could. He opened his mouth again, ready to apologise and promise himself away but never quite got the chance. A curious gloved finger prodded at his bottom lip, pulling his mouth open just a bit further.

“Corin –” his name uttered like just speaking was difficult, with Corin’s hand still very much wrapped around his hard cock. _“Later.”_

_We’ll talk later._

Corin nodded but made no promises; knowing it was something he would try not to keep.

He let his tongue venture out to lick at gloved fingers – closed his mouth and _sucked_ – before the Mandalorian pulled his hand away, replacing it atop Corin’s head.

Corin needed no further invitation – could not physically bring himself to wait longer than he had. He only hoped he didn’t look too eager rushing forward to take the head into his mouth.

At first Corin let his hand do the work; pumping the thick shaft while focussing his tongue on the slit where precum continued to pool into his mouth. He sucked and bobbed his head slow and shallow, until even that was not enough.

Corin wanted so much more. He could feel it in his core – something deep inside of him crying out in hunger – and he obliged. Corin pushed himself forward as far as he could go – almost choking himself in the process. He could feel his throat constricting – nearly gagging around the feeling of _too much_ and a sudden sharp tug of his hair pulled Corin back.

Spluttering and gasping for air, Corin felt shame color his cheeks.

“Don’t push yourself.”

An apology threated to spill out. He’d been too impatient. He could do better.

“Pace yourself.” A soft pat through his hair set those words right back in. “You – you’re doing good.”

The words spoken quietly, as though _shy_ , nearly had a laugh bubbling through Corin’s lips. He turned his head just slightly to plant a soft kiss against the length of exposed arm before preparing to try again.

He started small, bobbing his head back and forth taking more and more each time. The Mandalorian did his best to encourage with soft fingers through his hair turned almost rough whenever Corin pushed himself too far too fast. His hips seemed to move without his permission, pushing into Corin’s eager mouth, , driving an irregular pace that only sped up as Corin fought off his gag reflex and _finally_ managed to swallow the length.

It was only one or two seconds before he pulled back – choking – but never completely letting go. He tried again. Swallowing down the urge to pull away and gag. He chased it away by the guttural groans and bitten off gasps coming from above. The sounds had Corin jamming the heel of his free hand against his own growing erection. Trying to hold back. Trying to keep himself under control.

“Corin –” his name a mere gasp. The word made no sense to him. He couldn’t think. “ _Cyar’ika –”_

Coirin didn’t have time to think about what was being said, before his mouth was flooded and he held his breath – isn’t sure why but thinks maybe if he doesn’t breathe it won’t have to end – and keeps his mouth locked tight around the head while the body above him convulses.

It was a struggle not to give in – not to stroke himself to a desperate high. He clenched his eyes shut and swallowed thickly against the length in his mouth.

Then it was over. Corin popped off with a breathless huff, no longer sure what to do with himself. He stayed sprawled on the ground in a heap of jittery limbs – sat on his hands to keep them still.

The Mandalorian at least appeared equally indisposed – looked like he wasn’t sure whether to thank Corin or to usher him out of the room and never speak of this again.

In the end Corin made the decision for both of them. He stood to shaky feet – would have fallen if not for the Mandalorian’s quick grip.

“Shower,” he squeaked, squirming away from that tight grasp. “I need to warm up.”

The Mandalorian nodded. Let his hands fall away. Allowed Corin a graceful escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! again please encourage me to stick onto my bullshit. there are a couple more parts to go so please let me know what you think!
> 
> ALSO! please hit me up on Tumblr my user is: Softdramahoe  
> i very rarely post about my own wip (ill probably start doing that again) mostly just post baby yoda memes and mandalorian shitposts BUT id love to have more interaction with the community so chuck me an ask or a private message and lets chat!


	3. Does It Hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corin doesn't know much about sand. Or anything for that matter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey not much to say about this one i will be going back and doing some editing eventually i just could not sit around with this one in my pocket any longer.
> 
> the way i do these is that i write them in my notebook first and theyre pretty rough but then i type them and edit them and that editing can be quick or slow depending on how much effort i put into it when i was writing in the book. this one took a lot of editing and im still not quite happy.

The next time it happened they were on a desert planet – to Corin it seemed their entire existence could be melted down to the emptiness of space and the countless miles of sand. And running. Always running away.

Good luck found them work, and a friendly barkeep to watch the child.

Bad luck found them thrust into a half-baked job that ended with no payment and an attempt on both their lives. They’d been abandoned by their supposed employers, cornered and shot at – and Corin cursed his foresight leaving the child behind because they could certainly use some of that weird power about now.

They’d been ambushed in the middle of nowhere by a group of four. Corin could only assume they were bounty hunters looking to split the price. Otherwise they’d have to be nobody’s, who’d heard about the bounty and thought they’d stumbled across an easy retirement.

Either way, four people should’ve been no big deal.

Corin was sure if he weren’t there, the four would have been taken down in less than a second – barely a hinderance to the Mandalorian. But as it was he seemed too caught up making sure Corin was safe, he almost missed the fifth guy charging at them with a knife.

Now it wasn’t as though Corin had never taken a knife before. He’d been in plenty of unfair fights with sore losers who’d tried – and sometimes succeeded – to take him down after the battle was over. And sure, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to stop the knife with his shoulder, but Corin was more focussed on making sure the Mandalorian had enough time to draw his blaster – he wasn’t really thinking.

In the end it wasn’t deep. The hunter fell to the ground – shot through the head – with the knife still in hand. It had barely breached the skin; the blood made it seem worse than it was.

“Was that all of them?” He asked, surveying the surrounding bodies.

Corin had only managed to take down one before he’d been removed from danger for the Mandalorian to taken down the rest.

“I think so,” the Mandalorian looked up, in the direction they’d come from. “These weren’t bounty hunters. There could be more; stay sharp.”

Corin nodded in understanding. He was clutching his shoulder; red seeping out between his fingers.

“Let me see,” the Mandalorian said, approaching where Corin stood. He reached out to pry Corin’s hand away from the wound.

“It’s not so bad,” Corin mumbled.

“It shouldn’t have happened,” the Mandalorian looked away, though still held a loose grip on Corin’s wrist.

Corin opened his mouth to apologise – to promise he would be more careful in the future. He reached his hands out to rest against warm beskar, ready to beg forgiveness for his slight. It was only then and by pure accident when his hands touched a patch of still wet blood, that either of them realised the Mandalorian was injured as well.

Indeed the Mandalorian was so caught up taking care of Corin; he’d forgotten to look out for himself.

“Huh,” was his only response; purely disconnected from his own pain.

Corin, not so much.

He was almost hazy on the details after that.

They found a safe place to sit and take stock – beyond the ferocious glare of the sun. The Mandalorian was reluctant to remove any part of his Armor to allow access to his wounds, but seemed to decide his odds against Corin were stacked in his favour. Even without the beskar.

Corin had been doing so well containing his less than pure thoughts. He’d almost succeeded in crushing that part of him – had accepted it simply wasn’t going to happen and that he needed to move on.

But then he was touching exposed skin – hands gliding over the expanse of broad shoulders and chest – in search of further injury after the worst was cleaned and covered. He reminded himself frantically he had done this before and it was nothing out of the ordinary – nothing to get hot and wet over. He tried his best and yet Corin found his mouth following the path laid out by clumsy fingers –

And they would _definitely_ have to talk about this later; he wouldn’t be able to hide from it any longer but god Corin couldn’t _think_ he was absolutely starving with it.

Consequences be damned he was done being hungry.

* * *

“Does it hurt?”

Corin barely heard the question, clenching his bottom lip tight between his teeth. So much of his body hurt; injuries new and old, aches and pains from too much work and too little rest – there were times Corin thought he might collapse into a pile of tangled limbs and pain but pulled through if only to spare the inconvenience.

This was different. This was regret and guilt and an undercurrent of electrifying pleasure buzzing through his entire body. This was a mistake and yet the Mandalorian’s tight grip on his hips told Corin he was exactly where he belonged.

Corin was right about the size and it had taken a lot of work before it fit, but still felt amazing as long as he didn’t move. He was huffing and squirming and making noises that would’ve embarrassed him in any other situation.

He shifted – tried to lift his hips but only barely managed before he was forced back down. Corin was near desperate with it – ready to scream in frustration but instead took a deep breath and leaned forward, resting his head against the cool metal of the helmet.

“You look like you’re in pain.”

The words were ground out and accompanied by a precarious shift of the Mandalorian’s hips. He held Corin tight, to keep him from moving, but clearly trying to hold himself back as well

It was an offer to stop – as though Corin wasn’t the one who had started this all in an ill-advised hazer; too eager for his own body and too impatient, fuelled by the fear of never knowing what it felt like to be –

Connected.

He knew they could stop if he needed. If the pain became too much, or the act itself became a strain. But Corin would never ask for this to end. He was sure even when it was over he would long for this feeling again and again.

He didn’t respond, and the Mandalorian didn’t ask again.

Still, they sat there forever. Waited for some invisible clock to finish ticking. Corin caught his breath without once realising he had lost it. He continued to squirm and rock his hips. Almost bouncing in the Mandalorian’s lap if that grip wasn’t so tight he could have his way. Soon Corin was prying those strong hands away from his hips in a silent plea.

It had to be silent.

Corin was worried if he opened his mouth – if he tried to speak – he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from begging to chase his own pleasure. Had to keep reminding himself this wasn’t about him; as much as he wanted it Corin refused to give in. this was a gift. His own messed up way of saying thank you for not leaving me on some nowhere planet – thank you for putting up with me – thank you for _letting me do this._

So when Corin moved it had to be silent.

When the Madalorian finally eased up and allowed him to do what he wanted, Corin had to bury his moans in the crook of exposed neck and shoulder – breathing obscenities and pained gasps and desperately trying to control his own body.

He tried to stay steady. Corin tried to be good and pliable – to give himself up and let his body be used just like the other times. He didn’t want it to be good.

He _wanted_ it like nothing else. But Corin didn’t want this to be about him at all.

He tried to hold himself back. He tried as hard as he could. But it wasn’t long before the Mandalorian was moving beneath him; hips grinding up against him and pushing that thick cock deeper inside of him. Corin was breathless with it. Every new angle tingled right through his spine and caused his toes to curl in pleasure.

He lost his balance and had to be held up – was held up while the Mandalorian continued to drive into him, breathing out a steady stream of soft grunts and broken mando’a. Words that surely couldn’t be meant for Corin.

And in turn Corin bit his own tongue. He held back all the things he wanted to say – spurred on by the overwhelming feeling of being joined. He was sure his actions said it all anyway; just well enough to be denied if ever asked.

At some point he closed his eyes. Barely even moving on his own anymore Corin closed his eyes and let himself be _fucked._ Hard and desperate and if he could stand when this was over with he would certainly be surprised.

He could feel a constant weight in his stomach, building and bubbling. He felt light as air with every well placed thrust that had him seeing stars – yet his stomach was heavy and hot. Corin clung on to strong shoulders and at some point he must have sunk his teeth in but this only seemed to encourage the Mandalorian further.

Corin found completion first, with a startled jolt. His body shook despite his effort, and for a second he was certain he was dying.

He could feel the Mandalorian’s grip tightening on his skin – knew there would be bruises to admire and mourn later. That touch was the only thing that kept him tethered to his body, when Corin’s consciousness seemed intent on running away.

It was such an alarming high and Corin really didn’t know how long it had been but he knew it had never been that good before.

When he came back to himself Corin noticed they had stopped moving and realised somewhere in the back of his mind – some numb outer thought – he could feel himself sticky with the Mandalorian’s mess, already seeping out around his softening cock.

He leaned forward. Rested his head on the Mandalorian’s heaving chest. Could hear his heart hammering beneath the skin.

This moment felt too precious to belong to him.

“Sorry,” Corin mumbled, feeling as though any louder, or any more words, would really send him into a panic.

Whether he was apologising for what had happened or for the now bloody bite mark on the madanlorians exposed shoulder – it didn’t matter.

He was just sorry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could have easily made this a lot more graphic  
> i actually thought about doing so  
> but in the end and for the purpose of this story i decided nongraphic and vague worked a bit better  
> if i described every detail and made it super sexy-like it would take away from the real point of the story  
> thats just what i think anyway


	4. Give me Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A miscommunication leads to understanding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! obviously this is very very late.  
> Some of you who hit me up on Tumblr will know i've been going through a rough time lately, and ultimately i haven't been able to pick my sorry butt up long enough to type this up.  
> so i am incredibly sorry for anyone who's been waiting, this story has gotten a fair bit of attention and i am so greatful to everyone who commented, kudosd, and bookmarked this work it really helped me feel better. And to everyone who reached out to me thank you as well i really am blessed.

`Corin spent a lot of time trying to hide from his truth.

He’d left the desert on silent promises that were lost on the tailend of danger, and the likelihood of being found again.

They’d left the planet quickly – barely stopping to thank the barkeep for watching the child before piling into the RazorCrest and taking off.

That had been that.

There was a thick tension between them afterwards that simply went unspoken, and for Corin that silence was loud enough. He pushed down any hope he’d once had, thankful at least for the memories he’d come away with.

He began spending more time by himself.

Well, he tried anyway. But any attempts Corin made to sequester himself in the cargo area were foiled by the child, who still insisted on crawling into his arms for midday naps and even tried to drag Corin back to the cockpit a few times before giving up.

Over time he became despondent. A constant feeling of guilt clouded his conscience heavier than ever.

The Mandalorian only spoke to him once or twice in passing.

“Watch the ship.”

“Where’s the child?”

Never anything more.

He spent most of his time keeping course and watching their backs. All the progress they’d made disappeared. Communication broke down. The casual touches stopped. Corin felt once more like the disgraced stormtrooper cowering in the back of the cockpit, uncertain about his future and confused about his past.

He didn’t know how long they’d been in space this time before they landed. The days had been longer since they’d taken flight. Only the child’s regular sleep schedule helped him keep track, but even that seemed to drag into itself more and more.

“I didn’t want to have to do this,” The Mandalorian said as they were landing. “But with all that’s been happening lately; it’d be best if we kept underground.”

Corin wasn’t sure what he meant, but he gathered the child up anyway.

Another desert planet. How much worse could things get.

* * *

Corin only felt worse as he was welcomed into the covert. Raga and Paz vouched for him – apparently the approval of _his_ Mandalorian wasn’t quite good enough and Corin wasn’t too sure what to make of that.

He was scrutinized by some, meeting him for the first time. Teased by others. They asked questions he didn’t know how to answer. They treated him like he belonged there.

He watched the child being passed around a few dozen times, taking to every new person like an old friend, and endearing them to him instantly. It was a few hours and Corin felt sick trying to keep up.

Paz was the one who eventually ushered him away. Told him he should be getting more rest. Told him to worry more about himself and that no harm would come to an of them as long as they were here.

Safe.

Home.

He fell asleep with his stomach still churning.

* * *

“Corin?”

He opened his eyes – the entire world coming back to him in a matter of seconds.

His Mandalorian stood in the doorway of his – _their­ room._ He was reluctant to step inside. Reluctant to even look in Corin’s direction.

Corin sat up. He felt groggy, as though he’d drank a lot the night before when he hadn’t had a drop.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, blinking himself into focus.

“I just came to check on you. Paz mentioned…” he trailed off. His Mandalorian finally stepped further into the room, coming to a stop and sitting at the foot of the bed. “Are you feeling okay?” he asked.

Tentatively he reached out a hand to lay softly on Corin’s covered ankle. Corin flinched as though burned – and inside it truly felt that way.

He wanted to be outside, on a big field to run laps and workout these awful feelings until his body hurt more than his heart. He wanted to lie down and drag his Mandalorian into bed with him – rest his cheek on cold beskar and drift off in that strong embrace.

Corin wanted everything. Everything he didn’t deserve. And as much as it hurt he finally knew what he was going to do.

“I’m thinking about leaving,” he said quietly. So quiet he hoped the Mandalorian hadn’t heard him. Like there was still some chance he could take it back and hide it like the coward he really was.

A thick silence spread between them before –

“We’ve only just arrived. Where would you prefer to go?”

Corin swallowed hard and stared up into the visor. He hoped his eyes said everything he couldn’t quite get out.

By the sudden tensing of the Mandalorian’s body, Corin guessed his message had been received.

“Do you not like it here?” he was asked. “Do you not feel welcome?”

Corin shook his head. That wasn’t it. Everyone was great – it was _him_.

“Did one of the others say something to you? Paz?”

He was getting worked up. Corin had seen him this way before, though usually only in defence of the child. Nobody had ever cared so much about Corin before.

He reached out, grabbing the Mandalorian’s hand, and held it in his own.

“It’s nothing like that I promise.”

As though his promises meant anything.

Corin felt sick.

“I’ve thought about this a lot. In the long run this will be better for you. For the kid,” Corin paused. He held his breath and let it out only when his lungs began to burn. “I just don’t know if I can trust myself anymore.”

_You shouldn’t trust me either._

The grip on his hand tightened – becoming almost painful – before it disappeared all together.

“Corin…” his name said with a deep regret. “Get some sleep.”

* * *

When Corin opened his eyes it was pitch black. The room was completely dark and at first he panicked – almost forgetting where he was.

It was the feeling of warm arms wrapped around his body, that brought Corin back to reality. He could feel the weight of the Mandalorian behind him, and the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he took deep peaceful breaths. If he really tried, Corin could feel the soft thump of a heart beating against his bare back.

He sat up with a panicked jolt. This wasn’t right. The Mandalorian must think he was sick or in need of comfort. As much as he wanted things to go back to the way they were, Corin knew they couldn’t. and pretending otherwise was only going to hurt.

Corin almost jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand circling his wrist. The Mandalorian was reaching out for him in his sleep – probably thought he was the child wandering off the create mischief.

“Corin…” he breathed out, voice sounding different somehow. He began to stir, waking up little by little. His grip tightened on Corin’s wrist, trying to keep him in place.

“Go back to sleep,” Corin practically begged. He lay his hand over the other’s, stroking his wrist softly.

A dozen questions filled the air but remaining unasked. As usual Corin felt he could be crushed by the weight of words unsaid. It was making him ill. He wanted to run. Run and run until his legs wore down. The itch to bury himself in physical activity – and physical pain – burned just beneath his skin. He wanted to be breathless from exhaustion – to ignore the suffocating feeling of whatever this was.

His heart was racing as the Mandalorian began to sit up beside him. No chance for a quiet escape.

“Where’s the child?” Corin asked carefully.

“I left him with Paz. Just for the night.”

He nodded numbly in response.

“Corin,” his name said again, carefully, so many words hidden inside just one. The hand holding his wrist opened, fingers slowly releasing him.

Corin didn’t move an inch. Terrified that these were his last moments, and disgusted that he still wanted more.

_Haven’t I taken enough already?_

Corin closed his eyes against the hand that cupped his cheek. His breath came up short – almost catching in his throat when a bare thumb brushed his bottom lip.

“Cyar’ika…”

Corin shook it off – batted that gentle touch away.

“You don’t have to –” he sneered into the darkness, feeling bitter over himself.

“I want to.”

That voice was so very close and clear in the dark. Corin realised why – realised what was wrong – and barely had enough time to let out a sharp gasp before he was being _kissed_.

He leaned into it. Opened his mouth eagerly to welcome the other’s tongue. His hands came up to touch the helmet, meeting the warmth of skin and stubbled cheeks instead and Corin felt like he was losing his mind. He was so overwhelmed he bit down – a gentle tug through his hair steadied him enough to pull away.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, even as he was moving forward, hands on the Mandalorian’s shoulders, punishing him back enough for Corin to fit in his lap. “Kriff I’m so sorry,” he mumbled between kisses to jaw and cheek and desperate touches that lead his hands to be pulled back.

“I’m not,” the Mandalorian said firmly. He held Corin’s wrists together – kept him steady as it seemed he would fall apart. Corin felt wet lips against his neck – puffs of hot air against his throat sending chills down his spine. To his own shame he was getting hard.

“Corin,” again his name said with so much emotion. “Let me do this for you.”

He shook his head but still allowed the soft grip of hands on his hips. Those same hands pulled forward, encouraging Corin to move and when he did he could feel the Mandalorian’s own hard cock pressing against him.

“Cyar’ika,” that word again, panted against his throat, “you drive me crazy.”

It couldn’t be true.

But Corin kept moving, guided by the hands that held him steady, rocking back and forth on the Mandalorian’s lap to grind their erections together.

It felt good. Like fire scorching his nerves. Corin was soon moving on his own, moving faster and grinding down harder, racing towards that burst of perfect ecstasy before the fall. Those strong hands moved to cup his ass through his bed shorts, squeezing the supple flesh in a way that had Corin pushing back.

Those wandering hands took their time exploring his body, dragging down bare thighs then back up to his covered cheeks. Corin bounced into it, shifted to give more access while maintaining his back and forth, breathless with everything he was feeling and still wanting more.

It was when Corin felt fingers pushing – curious – towards his covered hole that he started to feel it. He was close. Already nearing the end without even being touched directly. He pushed back against those fingers – felt pressure against his entrance and that was enough. He was shaking and gasping – and really pathetic enough to mess his shorts like an inexperienced teenager during a wet dream.

He clung tight to bare shoulders, gasping out.

“I’m sorry, I’m going to –”

A messy kiss to the corner of his mouth. A tongue exploring the edges of his teeth. A breathless groan against his throat.

“Dyn,” that voice – familiar and yet so raw and different – whispered against his skin. “Say it for me.”

Corin barely registered the words – barely understood what was being said. But as he fell into bliss it was with a single word on his tongue.

“Dyn!” a single cry let out as Corin let go. He shuddered and shook as orgasm overtook him. Could feel warmth encompassing his entire body, weighing him down as he collapsed into strong arms. His hips were still moving – grinding weak against the still hard cock beneath him. He even found the strength to push back against fingers that never left him.

He wanted it all. He wanted to feel full with it, to take everything on offer and even then Corin thought he might not be satisfied. He wanted it again and again. Too much.

He lifted his head. Still blinded by the dark.

“Dyn,” he repeated the word, tasted it again in blissful afterglow. “Dyn.”

A tender kiss to the top of his head.

“I should have given it to you a long time ago,” Dyn whispered.

“You don’t owe me anything,” Corin countered.

“But I want to.”

Dyn rolled his hips reminding them both that he was still hard. His fingers continued to press lightly against Corin’s hole but didn’t push any further.

Corin thought he understood what was being said.

_I want to give you everything._

His heart swelled in his chest and Corin felt he simply couldn’t wait any longer. His hands fell from broad shoulders, to the ties on Dyn’s pants, working frantically to remove them. He felt a soft chuckle against his skin – the sound rumbling through Dyn’s chest in a way that melted right through Corin. He cursed against the darkness and his own eagerness causing him to be clumsy until he was finally able to free the Mandalorian’s hard cock. His fingers wrapped around the thick length – earning a sharp sound for his efforts – but within seconds Corin’s hand was being removed. He shrunk back into the dark, worried he’d done something wrong – hating himself just a little for being so impatient – but a soft kiss to his jaw reassured him.

“Don’t worry about me,” Dyn said softly, words murmured into his hair, while his fingers pulled at the waistband of Corin’s ruined shorts. “Let me take care of you.”

He pushed Corin away, forcing him onto his back. With so little light in the room Corin felt as blind as he had without his helmet all that time ago. He remained still, felt hands slide smooth up his legs them back down, dragging his shorts off at the same time and leaving him completely bare.

Corin clung to himself in the dark – held onto himself when his lack of sight turned into a displacement of his body. He could feel the bed firm against his back telling him he was _somewhere_ – but the only thing that gave him permanency was the feel of fingers against his skin telling him he had to exist physically in order to feel it.

Corin welcomed the touch of rough hands on his skin – dragged over the flat planes of his stomach and further down his thighs where he opened his legs to allow Dyn to settle between them. He reached out in the dark, pulling Dyn forward into another languid kiss. Corin didn’t know when he would get another chance to do this.

Again he felt fingers trailing down, pressing against him in a silent question and Corin assured him with a breathless sigh, lifting his hips slightly to push back against that touch. The warmth left him all at once and he could only hear as Dyn fumbled around in the dark trying to find something without seeing. The pure absurdity of it forced a laugh from Corin’s throat – his Mandalorian, usually so graceful and prepared, absolutely destroyed by a little dark.

Soon enough the warmth was back and Dyn was kissing away any traces of mirth while slick fingers rubbed circles against Corin’s sensitive skin a little longer than necessary. He shifted his hips trying to push back onto those fingers – tightened his thighs around the Mandalorian’s hips in a silent plea when his stomach began to burn, but it seemed the other was intent on taking things slow.

By the time the first finger pushed inside Corin was so sensitive, he couldn’t help the noise he let out, burying his face to hide his embarrassment.

 _“Dyn,”_ he whined, feeling too-full just from the build up.

A soft kiss to his collar bone – even the brush of warm air against his skin was becoming too much.

“Tell me what you want,” the words murmured against his throat almost as intense as the feeling of Dyn’s finger dragging in and out of him. “Tell me – I’ll give you everything Cyar’ika.”

And Corin couldn’t take it anymore. He’d waited too long for this – it felt like he’d been holding his breath underwater and was finally breaking the surface on the edge of drowning. It felt good to breathe – to finally get what he _needed_. Corin refused to dive back under.

With a soft push to the Mandaliorian’s chest Corin quickly flipped their positions, once again climbing into Dyn’s lap.

“Too slow,” he mumbled into a messy kiss, dragging Dyn’s hand back behind him – urging his fingers back inside. “Everything – I want everything,” he demanded. He ignored the amused laugh swallowed into their kiss – used his own fingers to stretch himself apart when Dyn continued to tease him until it was too much and he wanted to beg for something that would _hurt_.

“I want it _now_ ,” he pleaded, and somehow it escaped Corin’s notice that he was in control – could have whatever he wanted. He continued to grind onto his own fingers and gasp any time Dyn’s fingers moved inside him, pushing so much deeper, and he was ready for more. Greedy. Impatient. Every inch of him was screaming with it.

“Take it,” Dyn said, rolling his hips up – grinding his neglected length again Corin, but refusing to do anything more. He wrapped his fingers around Corin’s, and pulled out slowly, moving his own dirty hand to grip Corin’s hip.

Corin was shaking as he lifted himself onto his knees. He reached between them to wrap his hand around Dyn’s cock. He felt fingers tighten around his hips as he gave a few teasing stokes – his stomach was fluttering nervously, anticipation making him shake.,

Corin squeezed his eyes shut again the dark, when the blunt head breaching him. There’d been times in the recent past when he could think of nothing but _this_ – when he’d felt almost hollowed out, remembering their ill-advised tryst in the desert and knowing the memory wouldn’t ever be enough. His entire body was tensing – his legs straining with the effort of holding himself up, and his lungs burning holding his breath too long. Corin gave himself no time at all before he took the entire length inside – savouring the burn as he was stretched apart.

_“Corin!”_

His name was merely a sound in the back of his mind – ringing with a satisfying blend of pain and pleasure. He leaned forward, hands resting on the Mandalorian’s chest while his head fell to lie on a strong shoulder.

“Hurts,” he mumbled before he could be asked.

He lifted his hips, fighting the strong grip trying to force him down.

“Corin,” his name strained through gritted teeth. He could feel every minute shift of the Mandalorian’s hips beneath him, desperate to stay in control.

“Dyn,” he whined, pushing himself down further, “Don’t hold back.”

_Give me everything._

A pause filled with unspoken promises and words to be said when there was more than a single breath of air between them.

Corin was being lifted – felt light as air between strong hands – until only the head remained inside. He was dragged back down, Dyn’s hips rising to meet him halfway, nearly knocking the air out of his lungs. He felt delicate, being forced up and down to meet rough thrusts – the angle of it pounding in his stomach.

“Tell me to stop,” Dyn groaned against his neck, “if it’s too much – if you don’t want it.”

Corin kissed away his worries, wrapped his arms around Dyn’s shoulders and used what leverage he could get to help fuck himself.

“Don’t you dare stop,” he said, “I want this forever.”

This time when Corin was lifted he wasn’t dragged back down. He found himself being pushed onto his stomach and barely had enough time to scramble to his knees before he was being filled again – the new angle had him seeing colors in the dark, and his stomach fluttered with roaring embers threatening to set him aflame.

He felt the weight of the Mandalorian against his back and the sound of mando’a against his shoulder. Corin could even hear his own voice but couldn’t make out what he was saying.

He pushed his hips back against every thrust – breaking rhythm due to his over eagerness, he wanted it to be over but felt he would fall apart if this ever ended.

Corin wasn’t sure when he started to cum again but could feel it blazing through him like a wild fire until every part of him was consumed.

He felt soft lips against his ear. A whisper –

“Cyar’ika, I’m close.”

Corin tensed his body – tightened his insides around that thick cock until desperate thrusts became a slow grind and he could feel the Mandalorian spilling inside of him.

Soft kisses layered against his back and even softer words that floated through his ears. Corin gave up trying to catch his breath.

It was moments later and they were lying tangled together, covered in sweat and everything else. Corin still couldn’t see, but wanted to remember the face beneath his wandering hands.

Dyn gripped his wrists – kissed the palms of each hand before allowing them to cup his face. Thumbs traced stubbled cheeks and wet lips.

“If you want to leave, we can,” he said softly, startling Corin back to reality. “We’ll come with you. Wherever you want.”

Corin buried his head against Dyn’s chest. The last dredges of guilt were leaving him.

He smiled into the dark, burrowing further into the warmth of the other’s embrace.

“I’m right where I want to be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this story is technically over now which is a bit of a relief but i am definetely not done with these boys.  
> I have multiple ideas for follow ups or stand alone stories so you can expect to see more from me in the future!  
> again, anyone who wants to chill out and discuss some space gays feel free to hit me up on Tumblr @ Softdramahoe or even just stop by and say hey, i always appreciate the effort.
> 
> do not forget to leave a parting remark i actually sold a segment of my soul for this piece to be finished so i appreciate any feedback plus im just a straight up attention whore so yes!

**Author's Note:**

> SO! I marked this as complete so it would get more traffic, this is actually part of a four piece story but since i have all four pieces ready to post i didn't feel too guilty doing it this way.
> 
> Please let me know what you think i spent a lot of time on the drawing board arguing with my kitten over this story so any attention is much appreciated.


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